Feelings are hard

This might be one of the most personal blog entries I've ever written. But here goes.

I've been trying for months now to shake it. To try to pretend it wasn't there. But I am sad. Really, deeply, desperately sad. I thought about not writing about this, because I was just trying to avoid it. But it just keeps rearing its ugly head, that sadness.

There are a few things that are causing my sad face. But when it comes down to it, it all boils down to one word:

Regret.

I used to think that it was detrimental to live one's life with regrets. I still think that's true. At the same time, I can't seem to move past mine right now.

I'm sad and angry and scared and hurt about how much of my life I wasted. And every single time I start to talk about it, think about it or even let it cross my mind, I cry. Big, fat tears of regret (even as I type--if this were a letter written with pen and paper, my words would be smeared).

I have all these "what if?" thoughts. There's so much I want in my life. True love. A family. Adventure. Excitement. I can't help thinking that maybe during the almost 10 years I spent numbing myself with food, I missed out on these things. What if I was supposed to meet my soulmate when I was stuffing my face full of frozen pizza? What if the things I want most never happen for me? What if, what if, what if?

I can already envision some of your comments. Rest assured I know what you're thinking. Yes, I'm a different person than I was back then. The person I was wouldn't have been open to love or adventure. I would have ended up with the wrong person, because I was not the person I was meant to be yet, either.

Yes, I've accomplished something. But there's always that voice in the back of my head reminding me what I lost first. With each new relationship disappointment and with every friend I see finding their happily ever after, I become more aware of what I'm missing.

But here's one positive thing I also know. Pain, sadness, fear, anxiety--as much as these feelings hurt, the beauty is that I'm actually feeling them. For years, I numbed myself, never allowing those feelings to really come to the surface. Now, as much as I'd like to numb them, I'm feeling them. I'm working through them. One at a time.

And, I suppose, I really will be OK. For now, though, maybe I just need to grieve a little.